


A Million Moments

by inspiredbythemusic



Category: K-pop, SHINee, Super Junior
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23448985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspiredbythemusic/pseuds/inspiredbythemusic
Summary: Ae-Young’s father has arranged her marriage to her childhood crush and longtime family friend, Kyuhyun. A recent college graduate, Ae-Young worries that she will not make a good bride; she worries that her passion for photography will suffer; and, most of all, she worries that Kyuhyun will never love her the way she has always loved him.
Relationships: Cho Kyuhyun/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> I have also posted this series on Tumblr. The plot is identical. -Ash

**Kyuhyun’s POV**

If ever my job became too heavy a burden, I found strength in the top right drawer of my desk. There I kept the most precious gifts I ever received. Even on the brightest days, I delicately thumbed through the glittering polaroids of Broadway. 

Her father mentioned that she decided to become a photographer. It made sense— she used to run around at company events to capture everyone’s happiest moments on film. I wondered, _What beauty is she capturing now? Will I ever see it?_

The letter I reserved for cloudy days. She wrote: _I hope you never change. I know you’ll be the best lawyer (other than Dad) because there’s never been somebody so unfaltering in their virtues as you._

I don’t know what made her think so highly of me, but all achievements paled to being admired so purely by such a bright child. Just thinking that she was out there somewhere impressing someone with her talents made my heart swell with pride. 

She wasn’t really a child anymore, though, was she? I counted out the years on my hands, then did it again because she couldn’t be 22. Would she graduate at the end of the term? I would have to ask her father. Since she had so thoughtfully sent the Broadway Polaroids and the letter when I graduated from law school, I would have to be considerate of her, too. 

It was one of those cloudy days when her father knocked on my office door. I rose to greet him with a bow so quickly, so forcefully, that I collided with my desk. I hissed mostly out of embarrassment, but warm pain spread through my thigh. “Ah— Good morning, Mr. Kim.”

He asked,“ Are you too busy to talk?”

I was, but I couldn’t say that to my boss, especially not when he was already walking in.

So, for a man I respected greatly, I lied. “No. Please, sit.”

He obeyed my motion for him to sit on the other side of my desk, and I gingerly tucked the old letter away in its drawer before following suit. The next few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence as he fidgeted, twisting where I imagined he once wore a wedding band. 

In an attempt to ease his nerves about whatever he had to say, I asked, “Does Ae-Young graduate soon?”

At her name, he flinched so aggressively that I feared something might have happened to her until a broad smile broke across his face. “Oh, yes, she graduates soon. She’s such a bashful girl — she begged me not to host a party on her behalf, so I suppose Heechul and I will make a trip to the university at the end of the term.”

Ae-Young never seemed bashful to me. She was always the kind of girl who could adapt to any environment and put a smile on everyone’s face. I wouldn’t argue, though. Instead, I said, “Let me know when she graduates, please, so I can send her a gift." 

He studied me. "You were always close, weren’t you?”

Is that how I would describe our relationship? You can’t really be close to someone you haven’t seen or spoken to in years, I decided, but I replied, “I suppose. I’ve always been protective of her, and I’ve always been amazed by her potential.”

Nodding at my response, he bluntly announced, “There’s no way around what I have to ask you, so please consider this with an open mind. And if your answer is no, don’t allow my question to alter your relationship with Ae-Young, especially since I haven’t talked to her about this yet.”

“Okay,” I agreed cautiously. “What is it?”

As if he hadn’t led up to it so mysteriously, he asked almost casually, “Would you consider marrying her?”

I had never considered it before, but once I understood what he was asking, it didn’t take long to make a decision. Nonetheless, he continued, “I’m concerned about her financial stability since she chose to go into a creative field. And I’m worried about what will happen to her and Heechul if I die and the firm is not kept in the family. I know this isn’t your burden to carry, but you would be guaranteed inheritance of the firm and—”

Feeling that the conversation was becoming too much like a business deal, I interrupted. “Sir, I’m honored that you think I’m worthy of your daughter, but have you considered that she may want to be with someone her own age? What I mean is— am I really what would make her happy?”

His swift answer meant he had considered this at length before coming to me. “I think happiness can be learned. I don’t see much merit in passionate affairs, and I don’t care to see her hurt; I merely want to try all I can, as a father, to see that she is always cherished.”

There would be no shortage of men willing to cherish Ae-Young all their lives, but it occurred to me that nobody would have known her for as long as I had. So many would take advantage of her father’s generosity. Anyone else would leave her scarred, and I could only trust myself to swear that she would be cared for every moment. 

So I agreed: “I will marry her, but I want you to explain everything to her. If she’s upset by your choice, tell me, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

He stared at me for a while. “I offer you everything I have, and you care for her happiness more than appeasing me or satisfying your ambition. I knew I picked the right man." 

He left my office smiling proudly, and I could wonder was: _Did I do the right thing?_

The decision was easy for me. My career and reputation would benefit by marrying her because I would inherit a successful law firm. I hadn’t spoken to her in years, but I had seen her pictures hanging in her father’s office, and her beauty compared to the cheerful spirit embodied in her letter. 

I wasn’t in love with her, but I doubted whether I would be in love with anyone ever again— if I had ever been at all. At this stage in my life, I was expected to get married, and I had no prospects until her father walked into my office with his question. It made sense for me.

But I worried for her. She was a young creative spirit that could be crushed if caged— even if caged for her safety— and I didn’t want to be responsible for such a crime. 

_I’ll be careful,_ I decided. _I’ll learn how to make her happy. I won’t try to make her love me. Things will be like they’ve always been: I’ll care for her._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're having a lovely day! I appreciate all feedback!


	2. An Arrangement

Ae-Young’s POV

Before I ever left for college, even before my brother, Heechul, enrolled in law school, Dad insisted upon having a weekly family dinner. Ever since Mom left— which happened almost before I could remember— Dad craved some kind of intimacy with us that he could barely fit into his busy work schedule. So it didn’t matter that I was physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted from the journey home— I couldn’t skip dinner in favor of a nap.

Heechul said unsympathetically, “You should have taken me up on my offer to drive you home after the graduation ceremony.”

I don’t know what prompted him to speak to me. One minute, I had been drifting to sleep upright in my chair and likely drooling onto the white lace placemat; the next, I had to react to my brother’s bug-eyed stare.

“As if I’d even consider getting into a car with you after that drunken speech you gave at dinner.” I stretched as I talked.

“Yah!” He kicked me under the table. “Don’t call my heartfelt congratulations drunken!” When I didn’t apologize, he added, “Besides, that night was the first time I drank in my whole life.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t bite back laughter as he chugged a dark red wine he yanked out of Dad’s cooler shortly after arriving. “I see. So now you can’t imagine life without—”

He interrupted to complain. “Don’t you think Dad could be bothered to show up on time? He schedules these dinners, and he’s always the last one here.”

Yes— as fatigue washed over me, I wished Dad would hurry so I could faceplant into bed ASAP— but I didn’t like to complain about him. Heechul wouldn’t want to hear me explain what he already knew (that Dad likely got caught up in something important at the firm and was now probably stuck in downtown traffic) — so I decided to shrug and scroll through Instagram.

Just as Heechul opened his mouth to tease me for being a Daddy’s Girl, Dad came through the front door. As he took his hat and coat off and walked them and his briefcase to his study, he called, “Sorry I’m late— I’ve told you two countless times the stresses of running the most successful Korean law firm— Don’t worry, I’ll just come to eat in my work clothes— Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer— Ae-Young—”

As he stepped into the dining room, I rose, assuming that he intended to greet me even though I saw him just a week ago for the graduation. He swiftly concluded, “Put your phone away— No electronics at the table.”

Ignoring Heechul’s giggles, which were drowned by another gulp of stolen wine, I tucked my phone into my pocket and promised, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

Heechul’s amusement at my scolding quickly lost to his all-consuming craving for attention. As Dad settled into the seat at the head of the mahogany table too large for three, Heechul said, “Don’t be too hard on our little graduate. She was just gonna perform a little welfare check on you— you know, to make sure you didn’t fall in the office like old folks sometimes do. We would’ve come to help if you couldn’t get up.”

Dad replied, eyes narrowing in either annoyance, fondness, or a combination of the two, “You joke about my age, Son, without realizing that as I mature, you do too. Or at least your body does.”

While I howled at dad’s implication that Heechul was man-child, while Heechul struggled to retort for the first time in his life, the chef Dad hired soon after Mom left wordlessly dropped off some kind of seafood. After piling some onto my plate, I picked at it curiously. I wasn’t picky; I was just the opposite, actually. I couldn’t recognize even my favorite dish to save my life, and I knew better than to ask the chef. He would mistake my innocent question for criticism. Whatever was on my plate, I decided, was delicious as soon as it touched my tongue.

“Ae-Young,” Dad called. I looked at him and chewed my mouthful as fast as I could. “Why did you take so long to get home?”

I reddened at the reminder that I had graduated a week ago. I hadn’t been ready to abandon my independence. The day after the ceremony, I rejected separate offers from Dad and Heechul to be driven home and focused instead on promoting myself around town in the hope of scoring a job so I could afford an apartment in the city. Jobs for a recently graduated photography student were slimmer than I allowed myself to dream.

It wasn’t the embarrassment of unemployment that struck me silent. Dad would be proud to hear how I tried, regardless of the results. He would never admit it, but learning that I didn’t want to come home would hurt his feelings. He was a strong man— tall and broad with a strong jaw and permanently arched eyebrows. I always imagined that the criminals he prosecuted trembled at his stern appearance before he ever got to use his sharpened wit against them. So why did I treat him so delicately, as if he would break from something I said?

I had to say something, though. He was blinking at me expectantly. “I was busy, um, tying up loose ends.”

Kindly, as if merely interested in how I chose to spend my week, Dad asked, “What loose ends?”

Before I could answer that I had been helping my best friend, Key, move into a new apartment— which was a half-truth— Heechul answered, “Don’t you know, Dad? That’s a part of how young people talk today. It’s code.”

“Code?” Dad pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Swallowing some of the fish, he looked and Heechul and questioned, “Code for what?”

I knew Heechul was just running his mouth and that it wouldn’t lead anywhere that interesting, but I cut my eyes at him and repeated, “Yeah. Code for what?”

“Obviously, Dad,” Heechul pointed at me as he accused, “Ae-Young was breaking off some university fling, but not after a few nights of passionate—”

I cut him off by flicking some of my fish— shrimp, maybe— at him and hissing, “Shut up! You’re so gross!”

Dad started with a tired, “Kids, please,” and he ended with an only slightly playful, “You better have broken up with your little fling, Ae-Young.”

Those days, I was too sensitive about my complete lack of romantic life. Defensively, I argued, “There was no fling, Heechul is just stupid. And if there was a fling, why should we have to break up just because I graduated?”

“Yeesh.” Heechul stabbed at his food, grumbling, “What a drama queen.”

Perhaps sensing that my temper was flaring, Dad said calmly, “Heechul— it’s about that time in the evening where I ask you to drink quietly while I discuss serious matters with your sister.”

I knew Heechul thought Dad liked me better. Even now that we were both adults— I was 22 and Heechul was 36— Dad couldn’t decide whether to treat us like the children he knew or adults we were. The inconsistency didn’t bother me so much because I loved Dad as the only parent I had ever really known. When Dad would dismiss Heechul’s silly comments, he would whisper something like, ‘Mom would never.’

He didn’t do that anymore. He took a long sip of his wine and avoided my gaze.

“I’ve been thinking—” Dad said to me as I flinched out of my memories. “It’s about time you get married.”

Heechul spat out his wine in a spray across the table and spoke when I was speechless. “Well, that’s sudden. Don’t you think she’s too young for that? I mean, I’m not even married yet!”

“We can’t expect Ae-Young to wait until miracles happen to get on with her life,” Dad responded, and Heechul shrank.

Heechul’s outburst empowered me to say, “Look, Dad, I’ll be on the prowl for a husband if it’s so important to you, but I’m a little more invested in finding a job—”

“You already have a job,” Dad replied simply. “Now that you’re home and Mrs. Choi retired, you can be my secretary.”

Before I could filter my response, I said, “No— I mean a real job.” Thankfully, he wasn’t offended; his brow furrowed in confusion, though, so I said, “I want a job as a photographer. I majored in photography, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” He shifted slightly in his seat and straightened his tie. “I don’t know much about that field; the law firm has been in the family for generations, and nobody strayed until—” He subconsciously looked at Heechul, whose gaze hardened, but he clarified, “I don’t blame either of you for pursuing your dreams. Your happiness will always be my primary concern— and that goes for both of you.”

He wasn’t satisfied to continue his speech until Heechul and I swore that we knew that. Then, he told me, “I know everything you dream of will come true. If it doesn’t, it won’t be for a lack of effort, and you’ll still have a family who will take care of you. But I won’t always be around to—”

I shook my head. It was impossible to imagine a world without Dad. Just the thought sickened me, so I begged, “Don’t talk like that.”

He strictly maintained, “It’s the truth, Ae-Young. As your brother reminds me weekly, I’m not getting any younger—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Heechul interjected, but Dad didn’t acknowledge him.

“— And what will happen to you two? You can’t inherit the firm since you’re not lawyers. Then what about your children? What will their futures be?” He reached for my hand, but he was too far away as he swore, “I’m not just trying to marry you off to any person in search of a wife. And if my selection is too terrible, I’ll call the whole thing off.”

Simultaneously, Heechul and I shrieked, “You already chose someone?” and destroyed the diplomatic environment our father tried to create.

“Typical,” Heechul seethed and slammed his glass down. “If you were gonna set one of us up, why couldn’t it be me? I’m the firstborn, I haven’t had a girlfriend in, like, six months, my standards are a hell of a lot lower than Miss Graduate’s—”

“You went to undergraduate school too, you moron! We’ve received the same amount of education—”

“Children, please!” Dad never rose his voice, so Heechul and I instantly hushed. “If I knew anybody you liked, Heechul, you naturally would have been my choice for the arranged marriage. You are older and therefore may feel entitled to own the firm—”

Smirking, Heechul disagreed. “No, I just want a hot lawyer wife.”

Dad and I had learned a necessary skill: knowing when to go deaf to Heechul. He continued, “And I worried that at your age, you wouldn’t appreciate your father telling you what to do about something so… intimate.”

Heechul didn’t especially appreciate parental guidance at any age, so Dad was right to worry about that. How long has he been thinking about this? I frowned. And why is he only bringing up now?

“So you chose a husband for Ae-Young just because she’s more obedient?”

Dad wouldn’t release me from his stare as he said, “I don’t take this lightly— asking you to abandon your freedom so I can breathe easy knowing that you will be taken care of when I’m gone. You’ve always been a free spirit. I could see you dancing barefoot in the garden from my study when you were just a little girl. Do you remember that?”

I remembered dancing in the garden, but I never knew he watched me. I nodded quietly.

He said, “I’m not being completely selfish. I never would have brought his up if I didn’t know the perfect person to protect you—”

Heechul impatiently demanded, “Who is it?”

Dad answered, “Kyuhyun.”

I didn’t get to prepare myself— I didn’t even fully wrap my mind around Dad’s speech— I didn’t know what to say other than “Kyuhyun?”

Heechul relaxed in his seat as if he had been truly worried and the name of that family friend dispelled those worries. “That’s not so bad, Ae-Young. You’ve always liked him.”

My heart was beating me to death. I couldn’t hear as I countered, “I can’t marry Kyuhyun. I haven’t seen him in the last four years— and now our first conversation has to be about this? I can’t believe you asked him to marry me!”

“Now, isn’t four years a bit of a dramatization?” Dad shook his head, disbelieving. “You must have seen him at the Christmas parties!”  
“For some reason, Dad,” Heechul winked, “I think we should trust Ae-Young. She would remember the last time she saw Kyuhyun.”

My heart thundered at Heechul’s teasing. “Why would you ever ask him to marry me?” I asked again; I stood as if that would make the question impossible to ignore.

I expected another speech about how Kyuhyun was the best lawyer at the firm, how he was unfailingly honest and morally upright in every sense, how he had always been a great young man, how he had the advantage of being the son of Dad’s lifelong best friend—

I expected to hear him sing Kyuhyun’s praises as he had done my entire life. Instead, he answered softly, “I know you loved him.”

My affection for Kyuhyun existed since the moment we met— which, I’ve been told, occurred a few days after I was first born— and it resided in the innermost part of my heart, in a place I hadn’t visited in years. To be taken there so forcibly and with no warning was overwhelming. Humiliating. I felt naked, exposed, and embarrassed that I was overreacting.

Because my feet were frozen numb, I slid back into my chair and stared blankly at my half-cleared plate.

Dad’s shoulders fell, and Heechul didn’t say anything.

“I thought you would be happy with him. Did I misunderstand the time you cried to me after the New Years’ party?”

Dad was referring to something that happened when I was a teenager. I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I have never forgotten the red-hot scalding shock when I found Kyuhyun’s longtime girlfriend kissing some stranger on the balcony. I never wanted to tell anyone what I had seen, but the words tumbled out of my mouth.

“Well, that’s how these things go sometimes, I’m afraid,” he tried to teach me. He ran a thumb along his empty ring ringer the way he always did when he thought of Mom. “Passion drives people to do hurtful things. Even passionate love can leave scars.”

I refused to accept it. “Nobody should hurt him like that. He deserves everything good in the world. And what do I do now? Do I have to tell him? Do I have to break his heart when that’s the last thing I want to do?”

“These things always come out in the end,” Dad claimed as he pulled me into his side. “The truth always comes to light, whether good or bad.”

I never told Heechul, and he seemed to know better than to ask. “No,” I admitted, “You didn’t misunderstand. But that was so long ago, Dad. Who knows what has changed?”

“Who knows?” Dad shrugged. Sagely, the thought aloud, “I think if you loved somebody once— and I mean true admiration, not childish infatuations— you will love them always.”

Then Heechul, who had been quiet for too long, asserted his presence once more. “Wait a minute. Isn’t Kyuhyun, like, way older than Ae-Young?”

Without thinking, I answered, “He’s 10 years my senior.”

“I don’t think that matters,” Dad said. Glancing at me, he added, “I understand that like most young women, you want a romance that makes you swoon, but there are many kinds of forever loves in this world. I want that happiness for you— none of the temporary pleasures and scars.”

Dad took advantage of mine and Heechul’s silence as we considered his wisdom to say, “I hope you both adjust to this idea by next Friday evening because Kyuhyun will be joining us for dinner.”

I decided immediately that I would have to reunite with Kyuhyun before then. Seeing him for the first time four years— as my fiancé— with Heechul and Dad as an audience sounded like a nightmare.

The only way I knew to contact him was to call his office on Monday morning. Of course, I was struck by the complete lack of professionalism on my part, but I didn’t actually regret dialing the number until his assistant answered.

I forget his greeting. All I remember is the terror that seized my body when he asked, “May I receive your name and reason for calling Cho Kyuhyun’s office?”

I stuttered, “I— um— my name is Kim Ae-Young.” I knew he wouldn’t recognize me as the firm owner’s daughter. Even if he did, that wouldn’t explain why I was calling Kyuhyun’s office. There was no option except to breathe deeply and adapt to the situation. “I’m Kyuhyun’s fiancé, and I’m calling to discuss an, uh, urgent personal matter.”

There was a three-minute pause before he said, “Okay. I’ll connect you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're having a lovely day! All feedback is appreciated!


	3. The Call

**Kyuhyun’s POV**

In the six years I had known my assistant, I had not seen him smile. That changed the day he leaned into my office to announce, “I’ve got a girl on my phone saying that she’s your fiancé and she has something urgent to discuss.”

My heart plunged into my stomach. “Why are you smiling about that?” I dropped my pen and said, “Hurry and patch her through!”

He paled, I assume, because I never raised my voice. “You mean it wasn’t a prank call?”

At the moment, I couldn’t be properly offended that someone being engaged to me constituted a joke. Worried, I barked, “Go!” and he clumsily scrambled back to his phone. 

In the seconds before he transferred the call, my imagination dreamed of hundreds of things that could be wrong, but one seemed most probable. Her father finally told her about the engagement, which was followed by an irrationally panicked fear: and she’s already ending it. 

I frowned, and the frown deepened when I couldn’t explain to myself why I was bothered. There was no time for soul searching; the phone blinked red, signifying that Ae-Young was waiting. After watching my assistant courteously close the door with a soft click, I caught my breath and snatched the phone. 

I had hoped that she would be quick about rejecting me, but there was complete silence on the other end. Moments passed like this, with my frown weighing heavily on my mouth and Ae-Young offering not even the slightest breath to let me know she was there. 

Eventually, I had to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—”

At the sound of her voice, I could release the breath I had been holding. 

“— Sorry. I’m just kind of freaking out. I told your assistant that I’m your fiancé and— and I stuttered a lot— and now I’m talking so fast, oh my gosh.” She huffed, “Sorry, sorry, I’m just embarrassed. Hi.”

She said so much at once, I wasn’t sure which part to respond to. “Hi,” I said. And once I realized that wasn’t nearly all I wanted to say, I added, “Don’t be embarrassed. I think you gave my assistant the best laugh of his life.”

“Why?” She gasped. “What was so funny?”

“He wasn’t laughing at you,” I clarified quickly, stirred by her audible anxiety. “I think he was just shocked that anybody would ever introduce herself as my fiancé. He thought you were a prank caller.”

Her tone was not at all amused. “Well, that’s rude. Granted, our situation is… unusual… but the issue is not being called your fiancé.”

So it was as I expected: she called to discuss our engagement, and there was an ‘issue.’ I knew better than to take it personally, but my voice somehow caught in my throat as I asked, “What is the urgent situation you called about?”

“Oh, it’s not, like, end-of-the-world urgent. It’s more like— when do you have a lunch break?”

That was it? She only wanted to know my schedule?

She explained, “I want to meet with you sometime this week.”

“Before your family dinner?” I realized. And when she confirmed it, I said, “I had been thinking the same thing. I didn’t know you were home from college. If I did, I would have arranged a date myself.”

“Oh no,” she said politely, “I never would have expected you to do that. I know you’re very busy with important lawyer stuff— and I only graduated a week ago, so—”

“A week ago?” I accidentally interrupted. “I’m sorry— it’s just— I specifically asked your father to tell me when you were scheduled to graduate so I could prepare a gift—”

In turn, she interrupted my rambling. “Yes, well, Dad’s becoming a bit scatter-brained, but I don’t think you should worry about gifts. You don’t have to treat me all special just because Dad wants us to get married.”

I didn’t know how to react, but I knew I needed to collect my thoughts before discussing the marriage. As if we hadn’t gotten distracted, I answered her question about my schedule. “I usually go out for lunch around 12, but I can alter my schedule if that’s inconvenient for you.”

“12 is fine for me. Where did you want to meet?”

After a few moments of consideration, I answered, “There’s an upscale restaurant just down the street from the firm. Is that too far for you?”

“No,” she replied quickly, “that’s fine. But how upscale is it?”

“That’s nothing for you to worry about,” I answered. “I’ll pay for everything.”

She started to say, “I don’t think you should—”

“Oops, I have important lawyer business to attend to before our date,” I hummed. “I don’t have time to bicker about who pays for what.”

I didn’t actually plan to hang up, but she wheezed, “Wait, don’t go.” 

Mocking wariness, I asked, “You’re not keeping me here to argue, are you?”

“No,” she laughed lightly. “No, I’m just wondering how I should dress— is there some kind of dress code?”

Forgetting that she couldn’t see me, I shook my head. “I don’t think that matters very much. Just be sure to bring an umbrella— I have a feeling it will rain.”


	4. The Date

**Ae-Young’s POV**

The sun was shining when Kyuhyun and I ended our call with a promise to meet at the restaurant at noon, so I completely forgot his advice about bringing an umbrella until a dark gray cloud overwhelmed the sky soon after I boarded the bus. I was afraid to drive, and I would go to inconvenient lengths to avoid it. To me, walking half a mile from the bus stop to the restaurant in the rain was preferable to confronting my phobia. 

I only questioned my decision once I stepped in from the rain and felt the cool water dripping from the ends of my hair onto my shoulders. There was just enough time to catch my reflection in a decorative mirror and tie my hair in a bun before Kyuhyun delicately tapped my shoulder.

“Did you forget your umbrella?” He smiled as he dropped his into the container in the corner by the door. 

“I—”

My voice trailed off as all of my efforts went into studying him. He was very much like I remembered. He seemed a little taller, and his hair was wavier, but his smile was untouched by time. 

“Yeah.” I nodded as if rattling my head would clear my mind of distracting thoughts. “Yeah, I forgot. I think I’ve inherited Dad’s spotty memory.”

He laughed— or maybe it was just a breath— before turning to the hostess and saying, “I need a table for two, please.”

She was surprised. Her jaw dropped, but she didn’t say anything. After she led us to the table and Kyuhyun pulled my chair out, I watched her walk away from us, half-believing I misread her body language. She sauntered off toward one of the waitresses, said something to her, and then both of them turned toward us and giggled. 

“What are you looking at?” Kyuhyun tried to follow my gaze. 

My blood boiled. I turned to face him and— surprised that he was looking into my eyes— I dropped my gaze. It crashed somewhere onto my menu, and I pretended to be reading it as I replied, “The hostess is talking about us.”

“Oh.” His voice was even, calm, unbothered, but not uninterested or dismissive. “Well, I guess that’s fair.”

I gawked at him. “How possibly? It’s rude to gossip and giggle about anyone— especially strangers!”

He reasoned, “I’ve shown up to this place alone every workday for six years. I bet they’re wondering how I’ve tricked some poor girl into coming with me.”

If he really believed that, he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. I didn’t like it, though, the fact that he was seemed to think that their laughing at our expense was okay. It bothered me so much that I didn’t think before determinedly meeting his fixed stare and saying, “You would never have to trick me to come to lunch with you. You only have to ask, and I’m here.”

But he had turned his gaze to the menu, I was certain, to escape me as we discussed the hostess. He looked up, at last, to reply, “Thank you, Ae-Young, but I don’t think you should let things like this bother you— especially not for my sake. When we go out together, people may turn their heads and talk, but who cares what they say?”

As the waiter approached to take our order, I tried to resign myself to his thinking. He was strong— self-assured— and I wanted to be like that too. He smiled politely as he spoke to the waiter, genuinely unaffected by others’ opinions. **_Does that come with age? How long does it take to become like that?_**

After requesting the chef’s special and a coffee, although it was a little too late for coffee, I told Kyuhyun, “I just don’t understand what should turn their heads in the first place. What gives anyone the right to look at us like that?”

“I’m sure you’re used to people straining to get a look at you,” he joked. Then, more seriously, with a softer voice, he leaned across the table to explain, “I’m not saying that their behavior is right. It’s just— I understand. I’ve been single for a while, and nobody around here is used to seeing me with a woman— especially not somebody so young and pretty.”

Blushing, I almost thought he flattered me to shock me into dropping the subject. “I’m sorry I called you while you were at work. That was the only number I had for you.”

He said, “I don’t mind.” And in almost the same breath, he asked, “Are you bothered by this arranged marriage thing because… it’s with me?”

I hadn’t been able to look away from him, so I saw the flicker of vulnerability in the corner of his mouth when he asked. Even if it had been a lie, the sight of that still would have steered me to say, “No. That’s the only part of it I can tolerate.” And we both bristled at how harsh my explanation sounded. 

Maybe if so many memories didn’t come to the surface of my mind when I looked at him, I wouldn’t have minded. As it was, though, my palms moistened and my stomach churned as I tried to express, “I obviously like you. I just don’t think I’d be a very good wife to anyone right now, and you deserve—”

The waiter returned with our food and crashed my train of thought. I didn’t plan to sort through the wreckage until Kyuhyun asked, “Could you please finish what you were saying?”

I might have refused if he hadn’t raised his eyebrows at me so imploringly. “It’s just so sudden. I just got back from school, and I’m trying to launch my career, and Dad started talking about dying and arranged marriages, and he did all of this over family dinner, right in front of Heechul— and you know Heechul, he wouldn’t stop with the stupid interjections—”

“Hey—” Kyuhyun reached for my hand, but he faltered when I flinched from his touch. 

_Why did I do that? I’ve always wanted to feel his hand. Why—_

“I’m sorr—”

He returned his hand to the right of his plate and shook his head to dismiss my apology. “We don’t have to get married tomorrow or anything,” he said as if nothing had happened. And I guess nothing did happen. “I promised your father that I would marry you, so I fully intend to do that. The reality of the situation is, neither one of us is in a position to deny his wishes. I could risk my job, and you could jeopardize your relationship with him if we call it off.”

 _I don’t want to call it off._ Was I just lonely? Or did I like Kyuhyun more than I remembered? 

When I didn’t respond because I was trying to sort through my feelings, Kyuhyun leaned forward again, waved a hand in my face, and asked, “Was I too stern with you? I’m not trying to be. I’m trying to say that I’ll court you if that’s what you want.”

“You’ll court me?” I wanted to smile at his word choice, but I was too perplexed. “Like, you’ll go on dates with me?”

“Ae-Young,” he laughed my name. “Why are you so surprised? I literally agreed to marry you, so I clearly don’t mind spending time with you.” 

Still fighting the smile, I squirmed as I tried to learn how to explain my thoughts. “That just seems like more than you bargained for— dating me, I mean. I know you agreed to marry me to satisfy Dad, but—”

“I’m going to start interrupting you when you say nonsense,” he decided, and my mouth closed. “You’re right. We’re in this situation because of your father, and I understand that we aren’t in love, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy spending time together.”

He sat back in his chair briefly as he pulled a small notepad and pen out of his jacket. He gently tossed them onto the table and said, “Here, write some stuff you like to do, and I’ll do it with you.”

I glanced down at the notebook and then back at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he nodded.

Taking the pen into my hand and straightening the notebook’s bent pages, I asked, “Anything I like to do?”

He supported his chin with his hand and thought for a minute. I only realized he was teasing me when he said, “Maybe limit yourself to one international trip.” Once I laughed, committing the sight of him winking and holding up one finger to my pool of memories, and I started writing, he whispered, “I want you to be happy, so maybe I’ll find some way to make you happy with me.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I didn’t try to tell him that I was happy with him in that moment, at the beginning of us, so I just drew a smiley face on the list he asked me to write. 

“Um—” He cleared his throat. “Before I forget…” By the time I looked up, he had left a small black jewelry box on the table. I could have sworn a blush danced across cheeks and the bridge of his nose as he said, “Of course you don’t have to wear it until you’re ready… “

He fell silent when I dropped the pen to open the box containing a diamond ring. I could only meet his eyes briefly before something fluttered in my stomach and forced me to look elsewhere. Still, looking nowhere in particular, I slid the ring onto my finger.

“I—” He started, but his sentence fell apart when he shook his head. “You never do what I expect.”

  



	5. Family Dinner

**Ae-Young’s POV**

Dad was on time for the next family dinner because of Kyuhyun. Not because he wanted to arrive early as a sign of respect— I’m confident that Kyuhyun, in his almost compulsive habit of leaving work at the exact same times every day, actually dragged him out of the door and charmed him into the car. 

Heechul was so surprised that Dad didn’t show up late (at least not late enough to miss him digging around in the wine cooler), he nearly forgot his weekly ritual of making an age-related joke. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovered from the embarrassment of being caught snooping with the intent to steal by the best lawyers in town, Heechul jested, “Hey Dad, is that a gray hair?”

Dad ran a hand through his combed hair as he replied, “Son, I’ve been going gray for years. Your sister usually dyes my hair every few months, but her mind has been a little occupied lately.”

“Oh has it?” Heechul stole a wicked glance at me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. That reaction must not have satisfied him; he greeted Kyuhyun with a wink, saying, “Don’t worry, Kyuhyun. Whenever you start going gray, Ae-Young will have you covered.”

I swear Dad and Heechul both wiggled their eyebrows, but Kyuhyun either didn’t notice or didn’t care. After bowing politely, he walked past them to where I sat at the table. He pressed his chin against the head of my chair to look down at the polaroids I was sorting. 

“Dad has a conniption when I bring electronics to the table,” I explained under my breath, hoping to avoid attracting their attention. “So this is about all I can do to pass the time before dinner.”

He hummed “I see,” and tested my memory by asking, “where did you take these?”

Chewing on my tongue, I separated the pictures by location. “These,” I pointed to colorful windmills and tulips, “are from Amsterdam. These are cherry blossoms from a festival in Japan; here’s the Empire State Building—”

“That’s in New York, right?” I turned to face him, and he was wearing a broad smile. 

“Yeah,” I nodded, mirroring his expression. I forced myself to look back at the pictures. “Actually, most of these are from New York. When I was sorting through my closet the other day after unpacking, I found a lot of mementos from a study abroad program I did there.” 

He observed, “Some of these pictures are just of the sidewalk.”

I couldn’t gauge whether he was genuinely interested or being polite, but I answered enthusiastically anyway. “Well, that’s not just a sidewalk. There’s a tiny little yellow flower growing through a crack in the cement. And I liked the shadows in this one— the lighting was really perfect. And that—” I laughed, “well that’s just a picture of a sidewalk. I was probably trying to figure out how the camera worked or something.”

While Dad was probably content to let us talk all night, Heechul couldn’t resist interrupting. “Enough traveling down memory lane! Focus on the present!”

I would like to think that his actions weren’t prompted by Heechul’s outburst; Kyuhyun sat in the chair next to mine and offered me the smallest smile. 

“You’re awfully chummy for a couple who hasn’t met in four years.” Heechul eyed us suspiciously from his spot across from me.

To my surprise, Dad had abandoned his seat at the head of the table to be across from Kyuhyun. He asked, “Why do you say that as if it’s a bad thing?”

Kyuhyun raised his eyebrows to quietly ask if I was going to mention that we had gone out Monday and shared scattered conversations throughout the week. I hadn’t planned on saying anything about our relationship, whatever it was, to them, but Kyuhyun seemed willing and even eager to discuss it. 

Casting my discomfort aside, I said, “Actually, we saw each other on Monday,” so quickly that Dad, Heechul, and Kyuhyun all looked at me blankly. I paced myself more carefully to explain, “We went on a date Monday because I couldn’t wait until today to— I mean, I could have waited until today— except I wanted—”

Heechul tried to end my rambling by joking, “Kid, we all know you’re the very definition of patience.” And before I could object to being called a kid, he hollered, “WHAT kind of rock is on your hand?”

I had been anxiously cradling my face with my hands, so when Heechul yanked my left hand, I nearly faceplanted into the table. “Heechul, you moron!” I flushed at having lost my temper in front of Kyuhyun, but I couldn’t keep from growling, “Haven’t you ever heard of an engagement ring? Did you have to try to kill me just to look at a diamond?”

Rolling his eyes, Heechul tossed my hand aside, and I was free to lean back in my chair as he huffed, “Some people turn into such divas once they get nice things.”

When I stole a sheepish glance at Kyuhyun, I saw the small grin tugging at his lips, and my annoyance with Heechul miraculously faded. I don’t know what he found funny in that situation, and I wouldn’t bother asking, but my night was brightened by that smile. 

“You seem to get along well,” Dad said in an ‘I told you so’ tone, and he rose in his seat. 

I didn’t get to be annoyed by his smugness because Kyuhyun replied, “Yes, sir, we are,” and his smile grew.

Then, Dad decided, it was appropriate to ask, “So when is the wedding?”

“Excuse me—” Kyuhyun inquired politely as my jaw dropped at the abruptness of the question. 

“Shit, Dad,” Heechul groaned, unaffected by Dad’s vocal disapproval of his language. “Sure, Kyuhyun put a boulder on Ae-Young’s finger, and that makes things look pretty serious, but they just started talking this week because of your crazy shenanigans, and now you’re itching to send out wedding invitations?”

Before Dad could react negatively to Heechul’s criticism. Kyuhyun spoke up calmly. “Sir, we’ve decided to extend our engagement period. To build a solid foundation for our marriage, we think it’s best to court each other for no longer than a year.”

Those were exactly the terms we agreed on through texts, but hearing them spoken aloud to my father for approval was much more nerve-wracking than our private conversations. Suddenly, this surreal experience took on another aspect of reality, especially when Kyuhyun’s pinky wrapped around mine– one of the most common gestures of our early years.

At his touch, I remembered every pinky promise he ever made me. He would buy that K-Pop album for my birthday; he would take me out for ice cream if I aced my test; he would teach me how to slow dance before prom; now he would gently lead me into marriage. 

“Well, I would like to see you married sooner rather than later,” Dad confessed, “but I suppose that, for your own good, I should stand aside and encourage you to do as you see fit.”

“Thank you, Dad.” I bowed my head gratefully. 

And the conversation turned as Dad asked, “Kyuhyun, is your father enjoying retirement? We don’t speak as much now that we don’t work together.”

Soon after that, Dad slipped into his familiar habit of recollecting his life’s experiences. Heechul’s snores served as an only mildly grating background noise as Kyuhyun and I gave Dad the audience he craved, our smallest fingers still intertwined beneath the table.

  



	6. The Drawer

**Ae-Young’s POV**

Since I was in high school, Dad had been paying me to do the errands he hated. I guess I imagined that once I graduated from college, I would walk right into a career, and I wouldn’t rely on him for money anymore. As it was, though, my part-time job with the local news didn’t pay enough for me to afford the camera lens I was craving. So, for the sake of my art, I swallowed my pride and conformed to my old schedule of bringing his lunch to work every day. 

One day when I walked into his office, he raised his eyebrows. His eyes smiled at me over his silver-rimmed oval glasses. “I see you have two bags. Does this mean you’ll eat lunch with me today?”

Because he gestured to one of the seats across from him with such enthusiasm, I almost accepted his invitation. _No,_ I decided, _he’ll be more thrilled with my plans for this other bag of takeout._ I shook my head as I placed one of the bags on his desk. “No, sir— I actually planned to surprise Kyuhyun. Where’s his office?”

Dad blinked at the question before smiling proudly. He stood to deliver the instructions: “It’s just down the hall. Turn right when you walk out and it’s three doors down.” Glancing at his watch, he urged, “You better hurry, though. He usually leaves for lunch at this hour, and he’s a creature of habit.”

When I followed Dad’s instructions and stepped into Kyuhyun’s office, a much smaller beige room that was occupied almost entirely by two white bookcases that stretched from tanned hardwood floor to cream-colored ceiling, he was shrugging into his brown coat. I found my voice when he reached for his umbrella just to say, “It isn’t raining today.”

If he was surprised to see me, he hid it excellently. He pulled the umbrella out of its basket in one swift motion, undeterred by my words, and reasoned, “It’s not raining now, but it could start at any time.”

I pressed my back against the door frame and replied, “The forecast doesn’t predict any rain.” 

He nodded, “I know,” but clutched the umbrella firmly. 

There was no reason to convince him to drop it since he seemed so determined to carry it. You or I or anyone else would look silly carrying an umbrella on a golden sunny day, but Kyuhyun wouldn’t. While others would gawk at me if I did such a thing, most likely wouldn’t notice him; and if they did notice him, it would only be to say ‘That man looks like I picture I once saw, or maybe I only saw him in a dream.’ And he wouldn’t hear them or notice their gaze. 

“You’ve gone silent,” he realized, “and you’re holding a bag.”

My cheeks burned as I winced at being caught thinking about him so intently. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what took my voice away— it didn’t matter that I didn’t have to tell him why I couldn’t form a sentence— I knew why, and I couldn’t force it from my mind. 

I tried to swallow my shame. “I brought you lunch!” I smiled while holding the bag out to him. He dropped the umbrella to receive it and take it to his desk. “I guess I could have told you before you got dressed to go out. Sorry.”

Kyuhyun shook his head while shedding his coat. He said, “I don’t mind,” but I knew how precious time was to a lawyer. 

Still shrinking, I bowed quickly and dashed out, but he called after me. “Aren’t you going to stay with me?”

His voice was impossible to ignore. And even if it was just a whisper, I thought, I would have heard it and turned around. I stalled in the doorway and promised, “I’ll stay if you want me to, but I didn’t bring enough food for two.”

Kyuhyun didn’t reply. He walked around his desk to pull the guest chair out; the invitation to stay was unmistakable before he looked at me from his seat. Despite how flustered I felt— despite the small voice urging me to hide until his eyes didn’t make me feel like this— I didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t care whether he shared the food or kept it all to himself. I don’t know what I was staying for— except I did— but don’t make me say it— it’s too early. 

He smiled when I lowered into the seat. “Do you cook?”

The question might have been rude had it been asked by anyone else. Kyuhyun’s tendency to ask or say anything that crossed his mind was never offensive— not to me anyway. When he asked, he had been busy assessing the meal and dividing it into halves to split across the styrofoam container. Awaiting my answer, he tilted his head. 

When he looked at me like that— even when asking something as simple as ‘How is the weather’ — I would try to offer whatever answer would please him. I would never lie to impress anyone, and Kyuhyun was no exception, no matter how pretty his eyes were.

It seemed rude to take a mouthful of food without having responded, and for some reason, I couldn’t quite meet his gaze. The answer was no, so I shook my head. “I don’t even know if I can cook.” 

It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but he wouldn’t admit it. He only nodded before starting to eat, but I felt pressured to explain, “Nobody ever taught me how. After Mom left, Dad hired a chef— and he’s quite a character. His eyes hurl fire if I, Heechul, or even Dad step into the kitchen. He calls it his ‘sanctuary.’”

Kyuhyun briefly looked away when I mentioned my mother, perhaps thinking that she left a gaping wound, but he just as quickly composed a kind smile. “I see. I’ve tried to cook before, and it has never gone well.”

It was hard to believe that he would struggle with anything. I hummed, “Really?” suspiciously. 

And he laughed. “Why are you so surprised? I can’t even make instant Ramen.”

“Even I can make things like that!” I blurted, clamping a hand over my mouth when he dramatically gasped. “I just— you look like you can do anything, so I’m a bit surprised.”

“Ah,” he nodded and adorned a teasing smile. “So you thought I was perfect— that’s why you got all quiet earlier. Well, Ae-Young, I hope I don’t seem less like an ideal husband just because I can’t cook.”

Nervous at how his jokes so closely reflected the truth, I suggested, “We could always hire somebody like Dad did. Or— you know, I have a list of all the best takeout places from my college years—”

“Your college years!” He threw his head back laughing. “You talk like they’re some distant memory.”

Kyuhyun’s attempts at humor were never actually that funny, but there was something about how his smile softened and illuminated his otherwise solemn face. I had to smile as I jested, “I’ll remember this next time I get a chance to joke about how ancient you are.”

Silence fell over the room so suddenly that I might have assumed that he was offended if I didn’t know that he didn’t mind things like that. When I looked up at him, his head was tilted again, but he hadn’t asked anything. 

Assuming I missed the question, I asked, “What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

His face seemed to have darkened to a slight pink as he said, “I was just thinking… today is the first time you’ve talked about what our life together will be like.”

“Oh.” He was right. When we talked on the phone or at Family Dinners or face-to-face as we were doing then, I was careful to avoid the subject because of how often I misspoke. Since he brought it up, before the chance could pass, I told him, “Marrying you won’t be so bad.”

He bit back laughter. “Oh, so I’m still tolerable? That’s good to hear.” 

As glad I was to hear his laugh, my heart faltered at that reaction to my attempt at sincerity. “No— I mean I think I would like—” 

I didn’t get to tell him that, if I were a little older and worthier, I would have wanted to marry him. His assistant appeared in the doorway to say that their court appearance had been rescheduled and that they had to leave immediately to make it on time.

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” Once the assistant left, Kyuhyun frowned apologetically, likely assuming that my mouth curved into a frown because he was leaving early. “I’m sorry that I have to go. Thank you for bringing lunch and for staying with me.” 

I nodded and pulled my frown into a wobbling smile. “You’re welcome.”

He gestured to the food. “You should take this with you.”

And after pulling his coat over his sky blue sweater, after grabbing his umbrella, he stopped to ruffle my hair and fondly say, “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

I softened at his touch and agreed, “Okay,” and— sure that he wouldn’t notice— I watched him leave. But once he was out of sight, the warmth that had been growing in my chest cooled with the reborn realization _he still thinks I’m a kid_. 

I never practiced self-reflection until I was engaged to Kyuhyun, so I wondered _does everyone think I’m a child?_ But it didn’t matter what everyone else thought. When he looked at me, he probably remembered what I looked like when I was learning to walk. When he looked at me, although this moment couldn’t mean as much to him as it did to me, he probably remembered how I simultaneously melted and soared when he asked me to dance at one of my birthday parties.

Even then I knew it was only out of kindness that a handsome teenager with a beautiful girlfriend would entertain a childish crush, but the memory was still precious to me. He definitely remembered how he would often meet me at the bust stop— and sometimes at my school— because Mom was gone, and Dad was too busy with work, and Heechul couldn’t be relied on to bring me home after class. 

People say that age differences don’t matter so much in the adult world. _So why did things feel just the same as they had been when I was a kid?_ If I was honest enough to admit that I had probably always been in love with Kyuhyun, even when I thought I wasn’t, that meant nothing had ever changed. Yes, we were planning to get married, and we spent more time together than apart, but I knew that was only because of Dad’s planning for my future. It was out of respect for my father that Kyuhyun learned to enjoy my presence— not out of any particular interest in me— and that fact struck me every time we parted ways. 

It wasn’t so much a process of falling in love with him as it was a process of realizing that he wasn’t some ideal. Maybe a part of growing up was realizing that I liked the real Kyuhyun as an arranged fiancé than I ever liked him as a flawless childhood crush, but I didn’t see it like that at the time. All I knew was that it didn’t hurt so much to be overlooked as a kid. 

I didn’t cry when I met his girlfriend because she seemed so much like perfection personified. My heart never sank at the sight of them together because he looked so happy. Back then, I was so glad to see him at Dad’s work parties that I never imagined being the person at his side. But now that I was here, now that I was the only woman he looked at and that gaze was still very much like how he smiled at me back then, the longing for his love was too heavy. 

So I cleaned his desk with tears gathering in my eyes. They didn’t spill until I opened one of his drawers in search of a case for the reading glasses he left behind. I didn’t find the case, but I found a trove of gifts I sent when he graduated from law school. 

I was abroad in America when Kyuhyun graduated because Dad said spending summers in international study abroad programs would make me a more cultured person. While I was kind of upset that I wouldn’t get to see him graduate in person, I was somewhat emboldened by the opportunity to tell him how much I admired him from afar.

He was a fan of musicals, and I was studying in New York, so I saw _Les Mis_ on Broadway mostly so I could send him the playbill. He collected stamps, too. I sent him a bunch of American stamps. Funnily enough, that trip was when I first discovered the depth of my love for photography. I bought a Polaroid camera just so I could take pictures of the Broadway scenery he had never seen.

I was kind of surprised to see that he kept the playbill in his desk. And it seemed strange to keep the stamps there if he wasn’t going to use them to mail anything. Keeping the pictures wasn’t so strange— they were really pretty— but I couldn’t understand why he would keep them closed away where nobody could see them. What I really couldn’t comprehend was why he would keep the note I had written.

At its core, it was a confession of deep admiration. At the time, I thought I had grown out of the crush. Everybody expected that he would marry his girlfriend after graduating from law school, and I filled my days by running around with Key during that study abroad program, so the note didn’t say anything too fluffy. It was more about how he would be the best lawyer because he was the best person I had ever met, so maybe he kept it because it made him feel proud of his work. I don’t know.

I know the sight of those items made my tears fall. I wouldn’t ask why he kept them, but my curiosity burned so brightly that I had to talk myself into closing the drawer so I could dry my tears and get on with my day.

  



	7. Photograph

**Kyuhyun’s POV**

Ae-Young wouldn’t let me buy the lens she wanted. She insisted upon diligently saving the paychecks from several part-time jobs, and that determination manifested in such pride that when she finally bought it, she carried the camera everywhere. When I offered to drive her to the park because she listed it as one of her favorite places on our first date, I wasn’t surprised to see that she brought the camera along. 

She poked her head in through the opened passenger door to ask, “Can I put this in the back?”

I nodded, unlocked the trunk, and said, “Yeah, you can put it in with my umbrella.” 

After crawling into the passenger seat, she beamed at me and hummed, “I’m glad my camera has a good companion, then.” 

I could only ever smile at her sense of humor, even when I didn’t understand. 

Actually— there was a lot I didn’t understand about Ae-Young. Why did she have so much time to spend with me? Was there really nobody else whose days revolved around her? Why, when surrounded by a world of beauty, would she ask to take pictures of me?

As she adjusted the camera’s settings, she said, “I haven’t actually tried this lens yet.”

I found it hard to believe that, since she had brought the camera everywhere for weeks, there had been no other sight worth remembering. Why not photograph that pale bed of flowers? The sky was an unprecedented blend of blues, pinks, and golds— why let that sight fade to instead look at me? 

As if reading my thoughts, as if my anxiety was written plainly across my face, she pleaded, “Please, Kyuhyun,” and I would have agreed even if she hadn’t added sweetly, “You just look so beautiful today.”

I fought away my smile so I could properly form words. “Well, okay, but only because you asked so nicely.”

She clapped excitedly. “Here— stand here.” She grabbed me around my shoulders and positioned me beneath a blossoming tree before handing me the umbrella. 

“But Ae-Young!” The smile broke across my face when she looked at me. “It isn’t raining!”

Her face was illuminated by a bright, blinding smile, and I marveled at the gift of beholding it. Then, like waking in a dream, I realized I was meant to cause it every day as her husband. 

_I want to hold her._ The desire was suffocating, but she dashed off to take her photograph before I could extend my hand. 

It’s for the best. My throat tightened as I forced a smile for her. _How would she respond to such affection, anyway? She likes me somehow— isn’t that enough? We spend every day together— isn’t that everything? She’s right here, smiling before me, so why does she feel so far away?_

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Her eyes widened, and she dropped the smile I gave her. Lowering the camera, she asked, “Are your eyes watering?”

I wiped at my eyes with my sleeve and told my first lie. “Ah, it’s just allergies.”

It was foolish. Even as I tried in vain to get my ‘allergies’ under control, I was smiling, happy that she looked at me and saw something worth admiring.


	8. Voice

## Chapter 8: Voice

**Ae-Young’s POV**

One day, I had to apologize because Kyuhyun’s lunch had been crushed when some broad-shouldered man rammed into me on the bus. Thankfully, Dad was at a meeting, so I hadn’t been expected to bring him anything— that was one less worry as I walked into Kyuhyun’s office, heavy with disappointment that we wouldn’t be able to partake in our daily habit of eating together. 

I appeared in his doorway empty-handed, carrying only an apologetic smile because I still wanted to see him.

“I don’t mind.” He smiled at my apology. “If you’re not busy, I can just take you out for lunch.” 

Not caring to restrain my excitement, I nodded eagerly. It wasn’t raining, but I reached for his umbrella and, blushing under his puzzled gaze, I reasoned, “You never know when it might start to rain, Kyuhyun.”

A ghost of a smile traced on his lips as he gingerly placed his reading glasses in the top right drawer of his desk, where he kept those law school gifts. He tugged the collar up on his coat and agreed, “Whatever you say.”

We walked on the sidewalk just close enough that nobody would try to pass between us. Probably noticing how I flinched whenever a car got too close, he positioned himself on the edge of the sidewalk closer to the road. “Do you always take the bus?”

He couldn’t have expected that I would stiffen at such a casual question. The moment I fell out of sync with his steps, struggling to rationalize my fear of driving in a way that didn’t make me sound like a helpless freak, he paused to ask if I was alright. 

“Yeah,” I answered quickly. “I always ride the bus.” He wanted to know why, but he was too polite to ask, and I wanted so badly to please him, I said, “I— I know how to drive, I’m just afraid—”

My voice broke. This was my biggest insecurity: failing this test of independence. And I couldn’t imagine anything more difficult than revealing my shortcomings to him. 

He took my hand in his and led me to the small bench outside the restaurant. I couldn’t look at him as he said, “I wasn’t trying to criticize you. There’s nothing wrong with using public transportation—”

“But there is something wrong with surrendering life to such a phobia,” I argued, defensive even against his attempt to normalize my feelings. Breathing deeply, I whined, “I’m the only person my age who’s so afraid—”

Kyuhyun didn’t interrupt. I just stopped talking, mesmerized by the flopping of his hair as he shook his head. He claimed the silence. “I was about your age when I was in an accident. It scared me so much— the fact that I could have died— that I thought I’d never drive or even feel safe in a car again.”

I stared, dumbfounded. I never knew— Dad must have kept that secret, knowing how I would be devastated to hear that Kyuhyun was ever in pain. I croaked, “I’m sorry,” embarrassed that my fear had brought up such a scarring memory for him. 

“I don’t say it to scare you,” he said gently. “It’s just— sometimes the feelings you think will last forever don’t. I drive now, and I’m okay. For the record, I don’t think it matters whether you drive as long as you somehow get where you need to go.”

Considering his wisdom, I slowly nodded. And as I pondered, he offered, “If it would help you, I can ride in the passenger seat from time to time.”

His kindness made me smile. “Did that help you— having someone you trusted in the car?”

He nodded reassuringly, but a frown twitched in the corner of his mouth as he responded. “Yeah, at the time it helped.” Before curiosity or concern could fester, he grinned. “Music helps, too. It’s hard to feel nervous if you have a good soundtrack.”

That weekend marked two momentous occasions: my first time confronting my deepest fear since earning my license and my first time hearing a heavenly sound on earth. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” I breathed, relaxing my grip on the wheel until the color returned to my knuckles. 

His voice dispelled my anxiety and replaced that void in my chest so often filled with worry with a fluttering warmth, and I wondered **_what will I do if this warmth fades?_**

I like to imagine that he was too flattered by my comment so, blushing, he had to change the subject. “I didn’t know you could drive.”

His devilish teasing smile was so prominent in my mind, I had to see it. I pulled over on the empty street and turned to face him, but he was looking at me with eyes widened, worried, as he begged, “Is everything okay?”

_**It’s gone. The moment passed. I wasn’t quick enough.** _

I frowned as I pulled back onto the road. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just wanted to see something.”

My cryptic answer, I hoped, would tempt him to ask what I was looking for, but he didn’t say anything. **_If he asked,_** I daydreamed, **_would I even be able to tell him that I liked looking at him?_** Would he understand if I said **_‘My heart swells when I see you— it races when you’re next to me as if it’s racing to be held by you?’_ **Even in my daydream, I wasn’t brave enough to ask _‘ **Do you feel it too?’**_

 ** _No,_** a darkened voice in my mind reminded me, **_those things are best left unsaid. This is good as it is. Listen to him sing, glance at him out of the corner of your eye, appreciate the brilliance he creates just by existing nearby. But don’t be greedy. Don’t long for more. Do you want to ruin what you have in pursuit of a dream?_**

“You have a pretty voice, too.” Kyuhyun’s voice stirred me from my thoughts. 

I had been singing along to the radio without realizing it. The song was one we’ve all heard a thousand times, the one we all swear was written for us, the first song we play at home when we’re happy or sad— high or low. 

I was too flustered by his comment so, blushing, I changed the topic to something I can’t even remember.


	9. Insight

**Ae-Young’s POV**

“I don’t understand why you won’t let Dad throw you a birthday party,” Heechul said for the thousandth time as he waited for me outside of the dressing room. You may not believe it, but I liked him in situations where he didn’t have to compete for attention. 

Without fail, I had answered that I was spending my birthday with Kyuhyun, so I finally snapped. “Dude, what did I tell you? You’re here to offer fashion advice— not to interest me in conversation.”

“But I’m bored.” The dressing room shook as he slammed his back against the wall and slid until he hit the floor. “If you wanted a fashion guru, you should have called Key—”

Just to get a reaction out of Heechul, I lied, “I did call Key. He was busy.”

He gasped and stuck his head under the door. “I was your last resort?”

Squealing, I ran into the corner where he couldn’t see as I finished adjusting my dress. “Get out, Heechul!” And once he obeyed, I answered, “No, by the way; Dad would have been my last resort. You were my second resort.”

“I didn’t come here to be insulted, Ae-Young!” He pounded against the door. “Appreciate my presence!”

Half-hoping that an employee would kick him out of the store for disruptive behavior, I asked, “If you didn’t come to be helpful, and you didn’t come to be insulted—”

“ — I came because I thought you’d buy lunch.”

I scoffed. “You have a lot of nerve, expecting your baby sister to treat you on her birth-week!”

Without warning, Heechul tired of our conversation. “Seriously, come out in that last dress in the next thirty seconds, or I’m going to the food court alone, and then I’ll leave you here.”

That kind of attitude was why Dad didn’t trust him to pick me up after school when I was a kid. Childishly pouting and avoiding my reflection because the dress made me look like a stranger, I retorted, “Then leave! I’ll call Kyuhyun, and he’ll come get me!” 

“You’d interrupt your hard-working lawyer fiancé’s day with such silliness?” He tsked. “It’s as romantic as it is impossible, baby sister. You left your phone out here. So hurry up, or I’ll take it and leave.”

Catching a glimpse of myself again, I whined, “Heechul, I can’t come out. I look awful.”

“At least you know it,” he deadpanned. “Self-awareness can’t be taught.”

I pounded against the door and swore, “I’m serious, Heechul. I look terrible— I can’t wear this to the engagement party—”

He barked, “Quit being such a crybaby drama queen! Get out here and show me, and I’ll tell you if you look bad.”

My hand lingered on the door as I asked for his word that he wouldn’t just say I looked good to convince me to leave. “Promise?”

“When have I ever failed to tell you when you look like a wreck?”

It was true. If for nothing else, I could count on Heechul to tell me when I didn’t look my best. He was the kind of brother who would drive me to the doctor and point at my face, saying, “You look sick,” in the waiting room. 

So finally, I pushed the door open and stood before him, awkwardly linking my hands as I awaited his disapproval. It didn’t come, though. He only crossed his arms and mumbled something that sounded like, “You look beautiful.”

Unsure, I stepped closer and asked, “What did you say?” But he wouldn’t repeat it. 

Heechul belted, “You heard me! Don’t fish for compliments because I won’t say it again!”

“Yeesh,” I rolled my eyes, “you’re such a maniac.” Still, I smiled as I twirled back into the dressing room. Maybe looking like a stranger isn’t so bad. “So you think I should buy this for the engagement party?”

“Don’t you have girl friends you could drag to things like this?”

“No—” My stomach growled, so I tried to get an answer out of Heechul the only way I knew how: through flattery. “Your opinion is everything to me; so should I get the dress or not?”

Plainly, as if it hadn’t been so difficult to reply all along, he said, “Yeah.” And just as I unlocked the door, before I could open it, he asked, “You liked that blue dress too, right?”

The blue sundress was too casual for the extravagant engagement party Dad was planning. I only decided to try it on after remarking under my breath that it would be perfect for my birthday date with Kyuhyun. 

Reddening at the realization that Heechul must have overheard, I answered, “Yeah, it’s a pretty dress.” But after checking the price tag, I pouted. “It’s a little out of my price range today, though.”

“So what?” Heechul probably shrugged on the other side of the door. “Grab it anyway.”

Frowning at his fiscal irresponsibility, I repeated, I can’t afford—”

Eyes bulging in annoyance, he burst through the door and said, “I’m telling you that I’ll buy the damn dress. Now come on. I’m _hungry_.”

Swallowing my laughter at the chance to bug him further, I feigned cluelessness and sang, “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Let’s go!”

Heechul decided that we had to get lunch from the corndog stand because “That’s the cheapest thing here. I had to dig into my savings to get that dress.” 

Like I told you, I wasn’t picky, so I smiled at my meal as I climbed into one of those tall food court chairs. “I told you it was expensive! You don’t listen!”

Waving a hand, he dismissed the information just as he had in the dressing room. “I thought you were just milking me for a birthday gift.”

He was playing, as usual, so I shouldn’t have been offended. Irrationally, my brow furrowed, demanding, “When have I ever done something like that?”

His mouth fell open, but no reply ever came. Realizing that I had never asked him for anything in my life, he adopted a different attitude while shoving a corndog into his mouth. “I don’t mind spoiling you— everyone seems to love doing that.” And before I could argue, pouting, that I wasn’t spoiled, he continued, “It’s not your fault that you’re so spoiled. Everyone just likes you so much, they want to give you everything.”

“I don’t think—”

But Heechul never wanted to hear what I thought. He barreled into another topic, eyebrows wiggling. “I just hope Kyuhyun likes the dress.”

Heechul wouldn’t want to hear that Kyuhyun wasn’t especially fixated on appearances, so I bit my tongue. _I hope he likes it too. Even if he doesn’t say anything, I hope he thinks that nobody has ever looked so lovely._

“It’s disgusting.” Heechul’s entire body cringed as he pushed his plate closer to me. 

Stirred from my daydream, I looked at his empty plate and observed, “It certainly doesn’t look like you thought it was disgusting.”

“What?” He took a long sip from his straw. “No, I’m talking about how you’re in love with Kyuhyun.” He must not have noticed the color draining from my face— but how could he miss it? His eyes were fixed intently on my expression as if in search of the slightest tremor. Mercilessly, he proceeded, “It’s one thing to see you all lovestruck when he’s sitting with you at family dinners, probably holding your hand under the table or some shit. But he’s not even here. All I did was say his name, and you got little hearts in your eyes.”

My response was delayed. I unsteadily stood in my chair and swiped at him. “I did not!”

He dodged my swipes and smiled at having struck a nerve. “Hey, don’t get crazy! I bet he gets heart eyes when you’re brought up, too. Hell— he might even get them just from thinking about you since he likes you more—”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” I warned before he could finish the thought, “especially when it isn’t true.”

Not only were Kyuhyun’s feelings— well, I didn’t know what they were, but they weren’t whatever Heechul was talking about. And whatever Kyuhyun felt, there was no way he felt it more deeply than I did; there was no way he felt it as long as I had. Just considering Heechul’s scenario where Kyuhyun liked me more forced my lips into a tight frown. 

Heechul swooned, “Everyone always thinks they’re the one deeper in love, but someone’s always wrong. I’ve seen you two— the way he looks at you— the way he never looks away— and how you don’t even notice.”

“Stop playing about this, Heechul.” I glared at him. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not playing,” Heechul replied hotly as he always did when nobody took his attempts at sincerity seriously. Leaning across the table to stare at me more closely, he challenged, “How long do you plan to dance around your feelings? It’s disgusting to watch— truly disgusting— so just admit it.”

I looked directly into his blazing eyes. Aware that he could see through me— aware that there was no point in lying— I delayed. “Admit what?”

He screamed in my face, “That you’re in love!” And if I hadn’t already known, that moment alone of my brother hollering it in the middle of the heavily populated food court would have made it impossible to ignore. 

“I will admit no such thing!” I pushed his face away from mine and added, “And stop studying me and Kyuhyun. It’s weird!”

“It’s true love!” He sat back in his seat. “And as Dad says, I’m not likely to ever experience it myself, so I have to live vicariously through you!”

 _You’ll find love,_ I wanted to tell him. _She’ll have to be patient— the most patient person on earth, probably— but she’ll love the way you make laughter out of nothing at all. She’ll love your unexpected bits of wisdom sprinkled into stupid jokes. She’ll love your passion for music and your devotion to honesty, even at the expense of others’ feelings. She’ll come to you, and you won’t even have to look._

I wanted to tell him because I didn’t think he knew, but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I mumbled, “You’re such an idiot.” And then my curiosity burned bright as it often did. “Could I get your opinion on something?”

“Woah, woah—” He held his hands up and offered the disclaimer, “I am not the guy to come to for advice about love. I can recognize it, but I don’t know how—”

“It’s not about love!” I thought. And once he shut up, I asked, “So say a guy keeps a bunch of gifts a girl sent him years ago in his desk drawer at work—”

“Is the guy dating the girl?” Heechul asked. 

I was surprised that he took the scenario seriously enough to ask anything. “Y— no. No, they’re not really dating.”

“Well, was he dating someone else when he got the gifts?”

“Yeah.”

Having gone too long without being an imbecile, he broke into a goofy grin. “Was the girl named Ae-Young and the guy named Kyuhyun?”

I lied, “No, this happened in a drama I’m watching, and I have no clue how it’s gonna end. I just—” My voice wavered as I wondered aloud for the first time, “What does it mean? Why did he keep the gifts?”

Heechul was unconvinced by my story, but he didn’t push me to admit the truth. “Well, obviously, he had a thing for the girl who sent the gifts. He left them at the office so the girlfriend wouldn’t find out.”

Needless to say, I hadn’t considered that; and even once Heechul said it, I didn’t consider it. “That doesn’t make sense. The gift girl was no competition for the girlfriend—”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Heechul said plainly. “Maybe he thought she was.”

I shook my head. “No, she was too young—”

“Look, as long as she wasn’t a kid—”

“She was 16 and he was 26—”

Heechul tried to tell me, laughing, “All men are pigs, Ae-Young; I’m just the only one who’s honest about it.”

There was nothing to laugh about. All I could do was say, “Kyuhyun isn’t a pig,” and cover my mouth at the realization that I had completely revealed that I was talking about us the entire time. 

I expected Heechul would rejoice at my mistake, but he didn’t. He busied himself with organizing our trash onto the tray as he agreed, “Yeah— yeah, I know. Look, I’m not saying that he was lusting after you when you were younger or anything. It’s just— whatever you have is special somehow. And maybe he felt like taking those gifts home where his girlfriend could see would expose cracks in their relationship.”

While my eyes widened at the depth of Heechul’s insight, while I remembered why I sometimes bothered to tell him these things, Heechul continued, “He and Dad have stressful jobs. Maybe keeping that stuff reminds Kyuhyun that life isn’t all about punishing bad guys. Maybe you’ve been brightening his days for a long time without knowing it.”

How do I respond? Even if I knew what to say, I couldn’t. Emotions tightened around my throat until I could barely breathe. I hoped, I prayed that Heechul was right with a desperation that made me hang my head.


	10. Moon and Stars

**Ae-Young’s POV**

_Ae-Young,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t be here on your birthday to do everything we planned. I’ve been requested to speak at a conference in New York— busy lawyer stuff, as you say. While I’m there, I’ll take pictures for you. Maybe we can start to document where we’ve been and where we go together. I just know I would prefer to see New York as you did— maybe someday._

_Please don’t be upset by my absence… well, maybe you should miss me a bit. By the time I return, it will be time for our engagement party. Do you still feel like things are moving too quickly? I can try to slow them down for you if that’s what would make you happy._

_I’m sorry my thoughts are so scattered. I’m trying to scribble this at the last minute— I wasn’t expecting to have to go. You deserve better than this, so I’ll do better on your future birthdays._

_For your birthday, I’ve given you a photograph of the moon and stars. I remember you said how much you wanted to show me the sky from your father’s garden; I was looking forward to seeing it on your birthday. You also said that taking pictures of the night sky is a challenge you haven’t overcome yet. I hope seeing this picture inspires you to keep trying._

_I’ve been wanting to ask this for a while, but I can never find the right moment: what song do you want to dance to at our wedding? Ultimately, I will agree to whatever you like— even if it isn’t on this list— but I asked your brother to help me burn a CD of my favorite options. He promised to ensure that you receive everything on your birthday. I gave him an allowance to take you shopping— so don’t let him weasel out of taking you!_

_I’ll see you soon._

_Kyuhyun_

I eyed Heechul over the letter once I finished reading. He insisted on sitting at the foot of my bed after giving me the box of gifts, I assume, to watch the hearts gather in my eyes. “Hey, Heechul—” he hummed in acknowledgment, and I asked, “Where did you get the money for that blue dress?”

He replied, “Oh— well, you know, Dad gives me an allowance for coming to family dinners—” He cried when I swatted him with the letter, “Hey, watch it! You’re going to bend the paper!”

If for no other reason, I could be glad he was there because it allowed me the opportunity to glare at his dishonesty. “You mean to tell me that you were going to take the credit for buying that dress when Kyuhyun gave you the money?”

Heechul’s ears burned scarlet, and his dimples deepened as he smiled bashfully. “Oh, so he put that in the letter?” His nails dug at the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s great that you tell each other everything—”

Having heeded his warning about bending the paper, I dropped it into the box and grabbed a pillow to hit him with. “You’re unbelievable!”

“I still drove you to the mall!” He shrieked as he tried in vain to shield himself from the blows. “And I made that cheesy CD for you! Do you know how many mushy gushy love songs he made me put on there?” He gagged. “So I do deserve a little credit!”

For the first time, I agreed with my brother. Maybe I was truly grateful, or maybe I was silly with the realization that Kyuhyun had thought of me and romantic songs at the same time. While Heechul sat, frozen in shock after I said, “You’re right,” I threw my arms around him. “Thank you, big brother!”

“This isn’t— let go, Ae-Young— go hug Kyuhyun— this was all his idea—” He squirmed until he knocked us off my bed, but I didn’t let go.

“I can’t!” I tightened my grip around him. “He’s not here.”

“Love makes people crazy!” Heechul screamed, and I swear theatrical tears filled his eyes. “I HATE THIS.”


End file.
